One evening we were sitting at the table, my father stuffing soup and bread into his body, my mother playing coy, probably trying out a new diet advised by her personal physician, and I reading my book Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, when there was a clearing of the throat on the other side of the table. My father King Melchior wiped the breadcrumbs from his beard before he spoke: "Dinora, dear, your mother and I have decided that it is time for you to find yourself a husband, we have kept you away from balls and matchmakers long enough now." I didn't know what to say but looked to my mother Queen Fania, I wanted to know if father was serious. She just nodded briefly, probably the corset was too tight for her again. With my 19 years, I actually thought I was off the hook, because I was already out of marriageable age, yes I was already considered an old maid, I cleared my throat: I cleared my throat: "But am I not already much too old, what will the people think of us? Nonsense, your sister was 21 years old and is now engaged to Prince Bleuciel of France, they even have a wedding date. One is never too old for love," father explained to me. I just rolled my eyes, it was clear once again that he had to argue with Layna, I never stood a chance against her, now we were even separated by a sea and she was still so present. But I don't want to get married and falling in love is so exhausting and so much work," I continued to grumble. Melchior laughed at my statement: "Dinora, wait until you become queen, that's work, dear." To be honest, I was already looking for the great love, but in my environment and standing, this was as likely as a hen learning to fly. I don't want to get married and I ask you to accept my opinion, father," I countered a little more caustically. Every woman needs a husband and I want both my daughters to be happy," he was also no longer in a good mood. I ignored him now and continued reading my book, after five minutes I looked up again and saw that Melchior had put down his napkin, now the discussion would begin. In my family of the Lumière, it had become a tradition to discuss at every table or tea party, it served the pure entertainment factor, it always ended with me continuing to read my book and the king turning to the queen. I was already bracing myself for an attack from my father. "At your age, your sister has had many gentlemen courting her, but you don't seem to care at all," he provoked me, because he knew I could never take that lying down. I went for the counter-argument: "Have you ever looked at what kind of volitions there are at my age, I may be pig-headed and prefer to read my books than go to balls like my sister, but I have no desire to indulge in the next best thing father, I have such a thing as dignity." My father twirled his beard, he always did this when one of his children pulled at his patience thread. You have no dignity, you're just spoiled and vain Dinora," he sounded very irritated. I was so angry that I clenched my fists and rose from the table, the soup forming a red pool on the embroidery tablecloth. I looked both at my father and at the tablecloth, the soup had reached my book and now Mr Darcy was bathing in it. Oh, child..." my mother murmured softly. "Enough, I should have put you in boarding school, then you would probably have been more grateful!" my father exclaimed. "I will arrange three balls, on these three nights you can find yourself a ground one, when these days are over I will have you taught and your books will be taken away, afterwards you will be engaged to the next best person who tries to get you, do you understand me!" I was so angry that I grabbed the book and walked to the other side with my head held high and pressed it against my father's chest. I won't let you blackmail me, father, I won't get married," I shouted. I took the book from him, little drops of red formed on his shirt, it was ruined, well, it served him right. Now my father rose from his chair, his stature resembling that of a lion about to attack. "And that Austen...!" he snatched my book and threw it out of the window in a high arc, "she's put ideas in your head, I forbid you to read her any more!"

After my moment of shock was over, I rushed over and just managed to watch it disappear into the Thames. It was my only one signed with Austen's signature. I waited for hours. Tears welled up in my eyes. Someone grabbed me by the arm and pulled me away: "I am the king and you will do as I say and now into the room!" He realised from my tears that he had been too harsh, his features softened, then he let go of me and sighed deeply as he grabbed the root of his nose. "We'll talk about this again tomorrow, I'll get your book from the river, now go back to your room." I wiped my tears with the back of my hand, without turning around again I stepped out of the dining room.